


Leap of Faith

by PurelyBloom



Series: Leap of Faith [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2018-12-06 11:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11599818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurelyBloom/pseuds/PurelyBloom
Summary: Sarika never wanted to be the Avatar. She lived a life of blissful shelter, unaware and unwilling to go out into the world and do her duty. She was frightened of the pain, suffering, and sacrifice faced by every Avatar before her. But, knowing that would lead to her and the world's downfall, Raava whisked her away to a strange new world, where hopefully she could learn courage....





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fire Lily](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/433121) by Karen Elaine DuLay. 



Sarika looked up at the Earthbender, through vision blurry with pain. There was a smile on the woman’s face, and she laughed down at the young girl at her feet. She laughed at the girl who was completely at her mercy.

“So, Avatar, care to speak yet?” Tomiko sneered, clenching her fists tighter. Sarika cried out in pain as the rocks that enclosed her torso pressed tighter to her chest. That cry turned into a scream of agony as she heard the sickening crack of her ribs, cut short by a sharp, desperate intake of air. Her hands and feet were bound together by platinum chains as she lay on the ground, surrounded by sand she was too exhausted to Bend. Sarika offered no rebuttal to her jibe but a low groan of anguish. Even if she wanted to speak, she was in too much pain to do so.

Tomiko paused, then hummed thoughtfully. “But I suppose I must give you credit for holding out this long. It must be horribly hard to resist the Avatar State by this point.”

Sarika knew she was right. After a month of constant torture, she still hadn’t cracked, and it was beyond her how or why she had managed. Sarika was not strong or brave by any means. She was cowardly, clumsy, and she too easily let fear drive her actions. She was a poor excuse for an Avatar, and she knew that. She had been too scared to master the four Elements, to bear the responsibilities she was born with. She tried to ignore her status, her duties, and this was where it had led her. The world was falling into disarray because she did not know courage. She only knew happiness and a sheltered life. She was not prepared for any of this, nor did she want to be prepared. And this was the price she paid for her naïveté.

“I…trusted you….” she managed to rasp at her Earthbending teacher. Tomiko was one of only a handful of people Sarika felt she could depend on enough to reveal her true identity. And now here she was, in a secret base of the recently revived Red Lotus, being tortured in order to find the Grand Lotuses of the White Lotus and the location of a world leader in hiding. Just as well, she was being forced into the Avatar State so that she could finally be killed and break the Avatar cycle. Tomiko and the others did not care which came first.

Tomiko said nothing, and instead grinned. She spread her fingers, and the rocks fell away from the young Avatar’s body. Her response was immediate. She gasped for air, each pant hurting, but she hardly noticed. She just needed air.

“Humph. Guess I can’t get you to talk today, either.” Tomiko tossed her black hair and shrugged before beginning to walk towards the door. “Damodar will be here shortly to tend to your wounds. I suggest you think about your options until then.”

Sarika did not loudly weep, but tears ran down her cheeks. She hated Damodar, the man from the Southern Water Tribe. The way he healed her was painful, and he used her to practice his Bloodbending. He would touch her, skimming his fingers over the veins on her wrists, looking for exactly what and where to manipulate. He would cut her at a vein, and coax her blood to flow out of her body until she was unconscious, and she would wake up to the terror of him putting the blood back. She would rather lie there with broken ribs for months than let him heal her in a moment.

“Help….” she choked, hoping something would hear her. All her life, spirits had been Sarika’s friends, more than any human had been. Being the adopted daughter of a man whose past generations had settled on a holy site to protect it, she never had trouble crossing into the Spirit World, even though there were no portals nearby. In fact, she went there often. Many spirits were concentrated at the shrine she tended to, and they played with her. They helped her. If she got hurt when playing outside, or when she got lost in the forest, they would heal her, feed her, and take her home. But no spirits were here to aid her now. It made her sad, but she couldn’t blame them. This was a toxic, horrifying place.

The door in the platinum cell creaked open. Sarika looked up and into the cold blue eyes of Damodar, her body seizing in terror. “Please, Damodar.…” she begged, not below groveling for mercy. Her chest rattled with each word, rendering her silent with agony.

He grinned, a look of genuine happiness on his face. He came over to her and crouched down. “Don’t worry, Avatar,” he said with false kindness.“I’ll fix you right up. Tomiko is pretty mean, isn’t she?” He set down the ceramic jar he had been carrying, and Bended out the water. It flowed over his hands and he eyed her curiously. “Where does it hurt?”

He was as sadistic as one could get. He truly enjoyed watching her writhe in pain. He liked treating her like a toy, seeing how close he could get to breaking her before stopping, repairing her, and starting over. Sarika wasn’t entirely sure that he even knew what he was doing was wrong. She squinted at him, unable to see him clearly without her glasses or contacts, and tried desperately to convey her terror, hoping upon hope he would show even a minimal amount of pity and restraint.

She was disappointed again. Without another word he placed his hands on her chest. Immediately, she screamed. “Ah, so that’s where it hurts! Alright, just sit still and I’ll….”

If he said anymore, Sarika didn’t hear over her shrieks of pain. He did not guide, but forced her ribs back into place, the cracks lining up before sealing like glue as water spread over her body and glowed. When he was done, she could hardly breathe. She stared, wide eyed with horror, at the Waterbender as he moved his hands towards her face. “No,” she gasped, in no less pain than she was when her ribs were still broken. But he did not listen. He held her cheeks, and water flowed over her head, into her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

She writhed and cried out as he healed her swollen eye and bruised cheek, and in her panic her legs, bound together, swept up and hit his side. He grunted slightly, and moved his hands away.

“No more!” Sarika wailed, feeling empty and shattered in a way she did not know existed. She struggled to breathe again, coughing up the water that fell into her throat. Breathe, breathe, breathe! she told herself, doing everything she could to refill her bruised lungs. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. She was so tired, and in so much pain she could hardly remember how. She turned on her side, shuddering. “Please…no more….”

Damodar seemed surprised. He leaned back on his knees and with a troubled frown said, “Really? Are you sure?” as if he didn’t understand why Sarika was so distressed. The water on his hands flowed back into the jar. Then he smiled again and said, “Okay, Avatar, okay. I guess your healing session can wait until tomorrow.”

Sarika glanced at him, hopeful and relieved, but her heart sank when he began crawling towards her and murmured, “I guess we can go straight to Bloodbending.”

“No,” she groaned, trying to move away from him. “Please, no….”

He hovered over her now, his eyes evil and grin wicked. With hands on either side of her face, he bent down towards her. She watched in horror as his lips pressed against her right temple. “I can feel your blood rushing,” he whispered. “You need to calm down, Avatar. It’s not healthy for your heart to beat this fast.” His lips ran downward, over her cheek, until they reached her neck. He felt her pulse, and nibbled very slightly on the sweaty flesh over her carotid artery. And at that moment, something snapped in Sarika, and she felt something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Anger.

She was so furious at him—at everyone—for violating her, betraying her trust, for hurting her. Or perhaps, her despair had finally reached its maximum and collapsed, and so it was replaced with fiery rage. But even so, this was a sensation unlike any other that she had felt, beyond the agitation and annoyance she knew of. This vibrated in her bones, raw and moving, causing her chi to flare with energy.

“Get away from me!” she roared in a voice not quite hers. Damodar reared back in surprise and gaped at her as a new strength flooded through her. She pulled her arms apart with enough force to break the platinum chains, and she did the same with her feet. Thoughts that weren’t quite hers stirred in her. Thoughts of past lives that had been quick to anger, quick to fight back rose to the surface, after remaining dormant her whole life. They would pay. They would pay for treating her this way. They would pay for trying to kill her, for torturing her, for exploiting her. They would pay for their crimes as the Red Lotus, and Sarika would make sure they did.

She stood up, no longer feeling any pain. No more mercy, sadness, or agony. Now was the time she had to fight back. No matter what, she had to fight. Even if something horrible happened, she had to act. It was not her time to die. She had to break out, even if the situation worsened. Was it selfishness or selflessness that drove her? Did she merely want to survive, or live on to save the world? She didn’t know.

Damodar scrambled backward, and she raised her hands. Immediately, the water from the jar burst out and flew towards her. She swept her left arm outward, and it froze into ice. She turned her arms above her head in a circle, and with her right arm pointed forward the water went around her and out, running along her arm and straight at the Waterbender, the frozen point gleaming.

She heard voices. Shouting. Screaming. People were flooding into the room now, all with their arms raised, ready to Bend, ready to kill. But it was not her time to die.

It’s not my time to die, Sarika thought, and just before the ice reached Damodar, her vision went white, and she tumbled through the light into unconsciousness.


	2. A Mysterious Girl

“For God’s sake, I know he’s late to UN meetings often, but late to the one he’s hosting? Really.” England shook his head, obviously displeased. The other nations who happened to listen in nodded their heads in agreement.

The nations of the world sat in the Salute State Guest Hall in the Great Hall of the People in Beijing, some of them growing increasingly annoyed. The meeting was supposed to start half an hour ago, but one of the most important countries had not yet arrived. China had a bad habit of being tardy to conferences—after all, he personally stated he put food above even his nation duties—but when he was the host of a meeting, he went to great lengths to be early and make sure everything was in order the way he liked. He would ensure that the whole building was spotless, and get some of the best chefs around to prepare snacks and other refreshments.

“I wonder if anything happened,” Japan mused, half to himself and voicing that nagging thought everyone had...or at least, the thoughts that some people had.

“Pfft, I’m sure he’s fine! He probably just overslept again or something.” America came striding over, breaking a conversation he was having with Canada. With a sparkling smile he said, “Who knows? Maybe he’s finally realized a Communist government blows and he can’t bear the shame of admitting it!” He laughed victoriously, as though he had just won a bet.

England put his elbow on the table and soundly smacked the palm of his hand on his forehead. “America, I don’t think his government would collapse that quickly and without notice.” He emphasized the last words, hoping that America would process the stupidity of his statement. Oh, where had he gone wrong?

“Duh, I know that! Do you even know what sarcasm is?” America gave him a bemused look. “But really though, Communism is stupid.”

England ground his teeth together in annoyance, but said nothing.

“Hey, Taiwan’s not here either!” someone piped up. America, England, and Japan turned to see Korea standing behind them, his arms crossed and pouting. He was tapping his foot impatiently and added, “I was going to hurry over to Langfang to see a play after the meeting, but if they don’t get here soon, the meeting will have to run late! I already bought my ticket, and I am not missing out on something I already paid for!”

“Maybe you can contact him?” Liechtenstein suggested, sitting a few seats down the table.

“I already tried,” Korea huffed. “I even called Taiwan! I mean, I know he’s staying in his spring home in Hebei and all, but it’s not that far from here!”

“And of all people, it would be China who would know how soon to leave the house so he could make it on time, even through the Beijing traffic,” Japan said. “None of us were too particularly late, if I do recall.”

England nodded and reached into his briefcase. “You’re right. I’m going to try to call him and see if I can reach him.” He dialed his mobile number and pressed the phone to his ear.

It rang four times, and then went to voicemail. Before the answering machine beeped, England said aloud, “Huh, that’s odd. He always has his cell on him, and it’s on.” Then it beeped and, before England could talk into it, America snatched it from him and loudly declared, “Hey, China! Where are you? You’re super late, and we can’t start without you! Hurry up and get your old ass over here!”

“America!” England barked, dive bombing for his phone. America raised it out of reach, and England hammered the top of his head with his fist. More startled than hurt, America dropped his hand, and England quickly took back his phone.

Glaring at his former colony, he cleared his throat and said, “Sorry about that, China—America stole my phone. But anyway, you really are exceptionally late, even for you, so I just called to know of your whereabouts. Please call me or someone else back. If you are not here within fifteen minutes, we will begin the meeting without you.” With that, he hung up.

“Oh, I do hope he is okay,” Ukraine fretted, drumming her fingers on the desk nervously.

“I am sure he’s alright. Surely he would tell me if something is wrong! Let me call his home phone,” Russia chimed in, and pulled out his own cellular. He punched in the numbers and put it to his ear. His ever present smile wavered slightly, and turned into a slight pout when he did not answer that, either. “China? Hello? China? It’s me, Russia,” he called through the answering machine. “Anyone home? China, did you oversleep again? Hello?” He paused for a long moment, and for a few more moments after that, puncturing the silence with the occasional, “China, it’s Russia. Please do pick up.” After another minute or so, he gave up and ended the call.

“Okay, now I’m getting a little weirded out,” America admitted.

“This is indeed odd. He usually wakes up very early, yes? And even though he sometimes forgets there’s a meeting, he never forgets when one is in his own home.” France strode over now, frowning slightly. “Maybe one of us should check on him?”

Austria, who was sitting next to England and listening in, shook his head. “No. If he’s not here, then we will simply proceed without him. Taiwan as well. We can postpone issues relating to the two until tomorrow, when—hopefully—they will actually be here.”

“I’ll hold a vote,” Germany decided, standing up from his position beside Austria. “Attention, everyone!” he boomed. Immediately the talking died down and everyone looked to him. “China and Taiwan are absent, as most of you are already aware. If they do not arrive within fifteen minutes, please raise your hand if you would like to start without them.” Everybody looked at each other, and slowly the majority of hands went up. Germany nodded. “Alright, then. We’ll begin soon enough, so I suggest everyone starts putting their notes together.”

Obediently, nations began filing to their seats, opening up their bags and briefcases and folders and going over what they wanted to discuss. But there was a slight tension in the air, a gnawing nervousness for the welfare of the missing nations, and even America felt it. Before the conference started, Korea tried calling China again, both on his mobile and home phone. Once again, no response.

The fifteen minutes had passed, and the clock struck 12:45. With exchanges of wary glances between the countries gathered, America rose and began the meeting, wondering what China and Taiwan could possibly be up to.

*~*

“Alright, yeah, I’m freaked out now,” Korea told Japan during the lunch break two hours later. When Japan looked at him curiously he explained, “I just tried calling China and Taiwan again. No answer from either of them.”

“Hmm,” Japan hummed, setting down his chopsticks onto his plate of tataki. He patted his mouth with a napkin and suggested, “Maybe afterwards we should go see China, since we at least know where he is. You remember the location of his Hebei house?”

“I do!” Suddenly Russia was there, with a smile, as always. “I would like to check on China as well. I do hope he is doing okay,” he sang. Japan managed to repress a shudder. Knowing Russia, he only cared for his southern neighbor’s well being because he wanted him for something, and not of out of simple kindness.

Korea glared up at him, but conceded. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. And I wanna find out what’s up with Taiwan, too.”

America stepped into the conversation, a half eaten hamburger in his hand. “Yeah, I’d like to know, too. To be honest, I’m a little more worried about her.” Which, of course, made sense. America saw her as someone he needed to protect ever since her country rejected Communism, after all. He even once suggested she was like a little sister to him, a sentiment she was vehemently against, because to her, it made her sound weak.

“Then we are in agreement,” Japan said, sending a sideways glance Russia’s way, not wanting him to get involved. “After the meeting, we’ll go to China’s home, since it is closer. Hopefully Taiwan is with him, and we can kill two birds with one stone.”

“Sounds good,” Russia chirped, and turned to go finish his lunch.

Korea also began to walk away. “And hopefully I’m not late to that play. Because if I am, he owes me!”

Word spread of the plan to investigate China’s and Taiwan’s absences quickly. And soon, almost everyone wanted to be involved. The reasons varied greatly (“I really need to discuss this with China!” “I have nothing better to do.” “If he/she’s coming, then I am, too!”), but as the end of the first day of the world conference drew to a close, most everyone planned on checking in on China, too. Japan tried to insist so much commotion wasn’t necessary—and it wasn’t—but there was some unspoken vow between everyone present to discover why China and Taiwan were MIA.

That was why so many nations were now gathered outside China’s spring house. Or rather, it was a mansion, to be more precise. And it was old. Very old. It looked more like a giant temple than somewhere to live, perfectly symmetrical with a hipped roof that had ends that swooped upward, golden pillars that supported it, a wraparound porch, and smaller houses attached on both sides of the center axis by long hallways.

America got out of his rental car and released a low whistle. “Nice place.”

“China likes to spend spring in this rural area. Spring is when Beijing gets the most hectic, with the Lunar Festival and all,” Hong Kong muttered. He, along with Macau, had decided to join the search party after they were both called by Korea and also knew nothing on China’s or Taiwan’s whereabouts. He pointed. “They must still be here.” Indeed, inside the gate, on a large square of gravel that branched out from the path, sat his car.

“Well? Shall we proceed?” Austria insisted, tapping his foot irritably. He was one of the countries to come out of sheer boredom and no other way to spend his time. But it didn’t seem to make him any more optimistic.

The various nations glanced at each other, before Korea stormed up the steps to the porch and pounded his fist on the double doors, calling excitedly for his Aniki.

*~*

“China! Get up, you lazy bum! If you don’t hurry, we’ll be late to the meeting!”

“Me? You’re the one who spends forever and a day putting on makeup!”

“It’s an important process to look professional and elegant! Quit doing your stupid dance and let’s go!”

“Aiya! How dare you call Tai Chi a ‘dance’! You of all countries should know how important it is to do morning Tai Chi to me and my people! It’s an integral part of my culture!”

The bickering escalated into nonsensical shouting as the two Asian nations ran back and forth between the halls, scrambling to apply last minute accessories and gather important notes on economics and politics.

“Taiwan! Have you seen my briefcase?” China cried in exasperation as he tore up his bedroom. “All of my notes were in it! Did you take it?”

“Me? Of course not!” Taiwan cried back, putting on her earrings and looking into a hallway mirror. “It’s not my fault that you’re irresponsible with your things.”

China ran out of his room just to glare at her. “Irresponsible? Me? You’re the one who misplaced just about everything but your clothes and bed when you were young! If I hadn’t cooked your food, you would have forgotten to eat! How dare you treat your teacher—your brother—with such disrespect!” He dove back into his room to search more.

“That was a long time ago, China,” Taiwan countered. “At least I’ve grown out of that phase. For such an old man, you are still such a child!”

“Found it!” China left his room triumphantly, briefcase in hand. He wasted no time in pacing past Taiwan, saying, “Alright, if we leave right now, we can still be a little early, on time at the latest. And for the millionth time, I’m not old!”

“Are too! Ugh, I can’t believe I’m stuck rooming with you for the next few days for the meeting!” Taiwan, done prepping herself, dashed past China, and they rushed for the front door. To save some money and time, she had decided to fly from her home and to China’s a day before the meeting, and was now staying with him until the three day conference was over. It seemed like a good idea at the time—she hadn’t seen him in awhile, and despite all her grievances towards him, she knew family was important. Also, those cramped hotel rooms, the polluted air, and the constantly bustling streets of Beijing drove her crazy. She much preferred the quiet of the countryside, or at least her own, nicer cities above China’s.

She had forgotten how utterly annoying her teacher was.

China grabbed his key ring from the bowl on the table next to the doors. Taiwan ran outside as he muttered under his breath about his immature little sister while pulling on his shoes, wondering where he’d gone wrong.

He stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind him, then locking it. He checked his watch as he fumbled for the car key. “Alright, it’s a bit of a drive from here to Beijing, but if I move through Hebei fast we should be able to—what, what’s wrong?”

He nearly ran into Taiwan before looking up. “What?” he repeated in surprise. He thought she would’ve already been in the car by now. When she did not respond he said, “Hello? Earth to Taiwan! Come on, we’re going to be late!” He poked her back, noticing her rigidness.

His voice must have jarred her back to reality. Instead of acknowledging him, she let out a high pitched scream, which bordered on surprised and horrified. Then she darted forward, and China felt his heart seize in his chest. Just past her, lying face down on the gravel path, was a person coated in blood. Taiwan crouched down and rolled the person over, then placed her finger on their neck. When she looked up to China, her eyes were wild and scared. “She’s alive! Teacher, please, help me!”

Now China snapped out of it. “She is?” he gasped. He, too, ran over and fell to his knees on her other side. Yes, she was breathing. The young girl before them breathed heavily, panted really, her puffs of air ragged and uneven. She was covered in blood—far too much for someone to survive. Yet, clearly, she lived. China tried to find the source, but the blood on her was old, and it was everywhere. He saw no obvious injury on her face or neck, but he couldn’t tell if her clothes were ripped open and she was bleeding from her torso. He felt adrenaline roaring through him as he recalled horrible flashbacks. Fatally wounded, dismembered soldiers lying on a field decimated by mines and mortars, moaning in pain, crying for death, their glassy eyes staring an eternity into the sky….

“—cher? Teacher!” Taiwan shook his shoulders, and China realized he had zoned out again. “What do we do?” Tears of fear welled in her eyes. She was not used to gore and carnage, and for once she was not sure of herself. She was scared. He was scared. But he couldn’t let her know that. Right now, this was probably the one time in a very long time she would turn to him for advice, from both past and in the future. And this young girl needed him, too.

China took a deep breath and straightened his back. He carried the weight of an entire nation and culture on his shoulders. He could handle this, too. He passed his keys to Taiwan. “Open the door,” he murmured. He put one arm under the girl’s knees and one under her upper body. With a small grunt, he lifted her up. “We’re going to miss the meeting.”

He wasted no time in going back into the house and he climbed up the steps, Taiwan close behind. “Open it,” he told her, and for once, without objection she opened the door to the second guest room. He carried the girl inside and set her on the bed with a sigh. “Even with my great economy, I’m not as strong as I used to be….”

“What now? What now?” Taiwan exclaimed. “Should I call an ambulance? Or maybe we should take her to the hospital!”

“Wait a second,” China said, looking down at the girl. He turned his head in curiosity, staring at her intently. “I don’t…I don’t think she’s bleeding.”

“What?” the other nation gasped.

“Look.” He spread his hands over the girl. “All that blood is dark, it’s…old. And I don’t see a wound anywhere that’s oozing. Here, help me get rid of her clothes.”

She wore two robes, a deep green one over a yellow. The green one had long and large sleeves, and was cinched closed at the waist by a belt of pale green beads, hooked to a wooden square with a weird symbol carved into it. It was shaped like a trapezoid, but at the middle of the bottom side each end went up into the shape, and from those stemmed two lines in opposite directions. Above that was a swirl. China was not familiar with such a symbol, but he made a mental note of it. He felt it would be important. Attached to the wooden square were three purple strings that various colored beads and dyed, bright blue feathers hung from.

China unclasped one end of the belt from the other, which appeared to be glued to the back of the wood block. Why she would wear something of such poor, primitive craftsmanship was beyond him, but the thought quickly left him. Now there was just the yellow robe, more of a dress, really, that reached to her ankles and had shoulder length straps.

“I’ll do this,” Taiwan offered, stopping China from slipping the material off her shoulders. “You wait over there. I’ll check for injuries.”

“Okay.” For once, there was no talking, no bickering as the two worked together. China obediently turned around to face the opposite wall as his little sister worked.

“I…there’s nothing here. You were right. There’s no wound,” Taiwan said, puzzled. Yet she was relieved that the girl seemed to be fine, for lack of a better word. “She doesn’t have a scratch on her. The blood’s soaked through her clothes, but other than that…it’s not hers. China, I—“ She hesitated, a dreadful thought reaching her tongue. “What has she—I mean, how—?”

“I know what you mean to say.” China turned at that moment, just as Taiwan put a blanket over the girl. She appeared to be a teenager, maybe between fourteen and seventeen. “I wonder what happened to her, too. I wonder who she must have killed.”

“We don’t know she killed anyone!” Taiwan exclaimed, horrified at the idea.

“Look at the blood on her, Taiwan! There’s no way a person can survive losing that much!” China insisted, pointing at her.

“Shh! You’ll wake her!”

“You actually care about her? Taiwan, she could be dangerous!”

“Or she could be in danger!”

“Then we should turn her over to the police!”

“China!” Taiwan stamped her foot in frustration, then took a deep breath. “China,” she repeated, “I think we should wait until she wakes up and ask her what happened, and just go from there. I mean, I’ll watch her, and even if she hurts me, it’s not like she can kill me.” She folded her arms, the way she did when she had decided something and refused to budge.

China sighed, knowing there was now nothing he could say or do to change her mind. “Alright, fine. But I’m watching her with you. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“But the meeting—“

“—is three days long. We won’t miss much.” He sat at the edge of the bed, regarding his little sister. “I’m not budging, either.”

For a long time, she said nothing. Then a small smile grew on her face and she said, “Alright. Thank you, Teacher.”

*~*

“So this…she is why you did not come?” Japan managed to choke after a minute of stunned silence.

Taiwan nodded grimly, the other nations who couldn’t fit into the room craning to see the girl. Taiwan had answered the door, and immediately told everyone to be quiet. She assured that she and China were alright, and that she wasn’t surprised the countries had come. In fact, they had expected it. But she had fallen asleep in a chair while watching the girl and China refused to move, so he never answered his home phone or cell phone, because he had left that in his bedroom.

“I did manage to put some of my clothes on her,” she explained, “and I took her glasses off for her. It’s been hours, but she hasn’t moved an inch. Sometimes you can’t even tell she’s breathing.”

“And neither of you called the paramedics?” England said, tone hushed with shock.

Taiwan shook her head. “She was…she was totally covered in blood when we found her. You could barely see the colors of her clothes. I washed the blood off of her face, but…there was just so much. I can’t get it out of her hair and the rest of her body without bathing her. And I want to know what happened, because despite being unconscious, there’s nothing wrong with her.”

“You mean, that blood wasn’t hers?” Germany stammered, looking over at the clothes that were draped over another chair. They were drenched in dried blood, staining the material brown and red.

“No.” Now China spoke up. He sat next to her, feeling her forehead. Her skin was fair, pearly almost, and beads of sweat dotted her face. But she breathed gently through pale pink lips, and seemed to be sleeping rather peacefully. He looked up at Germany. “She’s completely fine. Not a cut, not a slash, not a bullet hole, not a bruise on her. Her pulse is fine, she’s hydrated, her breathing is stable…I can’t make heads or tails of it. Her breathing was a bit ragged at first, but it’s evened out since.”

“So you took in a girl covered in blood that’s not hers and gave her a bed to sleep on? How stupid can you be!” France cried, looking as intrigued as he did frightened.

“Well, I wanted to contact the authorities, but Taiwan won’t let me. Besides, the police of Hebei wouldn’t really be cut out for something so strange. And I must confess, I’m curious as to what happened to her, too.”

“Yeah, this is some FBI stuff,” America muttered, the first time he spoke since he saw the girl.

“But you could be harboring a murderer!” England persisted, jabbing a finger in her direction.

China held up his hands and opened his mouth to speak, but Taiwan cut him off. “Believe me, England, I know. But I just…I feel like I need to protect her. Don’t you? She could’ve seen something, been forced to do something…I’m not sure how to explain it, but I feel like she needs me. Needs us.”

“Are you mad?” he barked. He turned on his heels and began to leave the room. “Either she killed someone or watched someone die, right in front of her. What she needs is to be sent to the authorities and locked up in a psychiatric ward! I’m calling the police.”

“No, please, wait—!” Taiwan tried to stop him, but, out of all people, it was America who put his hand on his shoulder, halting him in his tracks.

“England…I think we should listen to her. This girl, she seems…I don’t know, but I feel like I need to be watching over her, too.”

“Have you gone daft?”

“No, I just—“

“Please! Lower your voices.” Taiwan stepped between them before their bickering could escalate. She turned to England. “Look, if you don’t want any part of this, then go back to your hotel. But I’m sticking around, and anyone else who wants to can.”

England glared at her, then sighed in defeat. “I don’t want any part of this, not at all. But if I’m right, and this turns out to be a total psychopath that tries to kill you all—well, you’ll need someone to protect you.”

“How reassuring,” France sneered, rolling his eyes.

“Do you have a better idea?” England demanded.

The other man held up his hands. “No, I don’t. For once I agree with you. She shouldn’t be kept here. But, I suppose that if Taiwan won’t let us move her…then we just have to wait it out.”

“She doesn’t look like a murderous psychopath to me.” Now Italy chimed in, and he moved closer to the bed, hovering over her. There was a hint of fear in his voice, fear that England and France were right. But there was also a trace of optimism, one that was ever present with him. “She looks nice enough! Who knows, maybe she’ll be our friend!”

“Of course you would think that,” Germany muttered, pinching his nose in frustration. He also did not want her to stick around, but it seemed Italy did, and there was no way he’d be able to defend himself from her if she was a threat, so, he supposed, he was stuck sticking around in China’s home.

Nobody heard him.


	3. A Strange New World

When Sarika regained consciousness, she knew right away that something was wrong.

She was not in her cell. The four platinum walls and sandy ground had been replaced with a bedroom. She gasped and sat upright, startled. Immediately she became horribly lightheaded, and for a moment her vision went completely black. Dizzy, she laid back down and stared up at the ceiling until it stopped swirling.

Sarika examined her surroundings. She was tucked into a rather soft bed with white, fluffy blankets. Across from her was a dark wooden dresser, to her left was a closet, and to her right was a window. The walls were painted lavender, and matching curtains only slightly hid the evening sun that filtered a purple rectangle onto the bed.

After the initial surprise wore off, confusion and fear quickly followed. Her last memory was of Damodar touching, caressing, kissing her. Violating her. And she got mad. She was angry, and then…nothing. He had been on top of her, his lips on her neck…. And in the next instant she was here. But how was that possible?

She wondered just how she passed out. She did feel rather tired. Maybe her exhaustion caught up with her? Or maybe there was something in Damodar’s water, and when it got into her mouth, it caused her to black out? But why would he do that? And why would the Red Lotus take her to this place? Had she been transferred to another part of the base, or another location entirely? Why? And why would she be placed in such a hospitable environment so suddenly? Tomiko did not hide things from Sarika, or at least, she had no reason to lie to her. She often delivered news—mostly bad—to her of the outside world due to her supreme arrogance. She would have told Sarika that she was being moved…wouldn’t she?

And was she unguarded?

Indeed, there was no one in the room with her. In her large, windowless cell there was just one door, which needed a key to unlock, and was heavily monitored by cameras, so there was no reason for a soldier to be in there with her. But in this room there were two doors, next to the closet and beside the dresser, and she could see no cameras. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t being watched.

Quietly, she slunk out of the bed. Her feet sunk into the plush beige carpet, and she wiggled her toes experimentally. She was still so tired and hungry, and now, out from under the blankets, she was freezing. Glancing down, she gasped to see she was wearing different clothes. Sarika had been wearing a patchwork dress riddled with holes, the worn cloths haphazardly sewn together after she was captured. But now she wore a long, light green pleated skirt and a dark green blouse with long sleeves, and the fabric overlapped, making a V-shape. Another terror swept through the Avatar at the thought of being stripped bare, followed by another wave of confusion at being redressed. What was the purpose?

Sarika took a deep breath and sunk into her mind’s eye, envisioning her chakras. The spheres were small and dim, and the flow of energy was slow. They hadn’t changed, not that she was surprised. Fear clogged her energies, and her physical weaknesses prevented her from Bending at all. How ironic, she thought bitterly, that the Avatar is but a Nonbender.

Slowly she sank to the floor, fighting back tears. She was so puzzled and frightened—what was she supposed to do now? She just wanted to go home. That was all she wanted. She just wanted to go home and continue living in the village, denying her existence as the Avatar and letting the world sort itself out. She didn’t want to be involved in these politics anymore. She hadn’t wanted to be involved in the first place! She much preferred her little cottage on the Earth Kingdom coast, a world detached from the Five Nations. No war, conflict, or political strife affected them. And the world had been just fine before she made her identity known. What a fool she had been to let her loneliness consume her!

But Sarika knew to stop lamenting her irreversible decisions. She was the Avatar. It was her job to right her wrongs and fix the world. She knew she didn’t have to like it—and she didn’t—but she did have to restore balance. No one else could do her duties. The time that it was acceptable for her to cower had passed. Now she had to be brave—or at least feign courage for everyone else.

Deciding she had better investigate, Sarika used a nightstand next to the bed to help her back on her feet, clutching the top as she stood. Her fingers brushed against something. Looking over, she stared at her glasses in shock. That was impossible! They had been broken a month ago! With shaking hands, she picked the eyewear up. They were definitely hers. They had the same tortoiseshell frames, and when she put them on, her vision immediately became sharper and clearer. But how could this be?

Hoping against hope, she reached for her neck. But no, her precious necklace had not been returned. Her heart sank, and for a moment she was breathless with grief. But she swallowed it down, turning her priority to finding out where she was.

Sarika crept over to the white door across from her and turned the knob slowly, holding her breath. There was no sound when she opened it, just a crack, and she peered inside. Once her eyes adjusted to the dark, she released her breath in a sigh of relief. It was just a bathroom.

She entered it and flipped the light switch. To her right was a sink, and above that, a mirror. What she saw reflected there froze her to her core. Blood had dyed her hair crimson and brown. It formed knots and tangles, and her hairline was red. Sarika ran her fingers over her hair frantically, but found no wounds.

“What…?” she breathed. She tried harder to remember what had happened to her, but still nothing came to mind other than Damodar crouching over her. She thought so hard she got a headache, and she put her fingers to her temples to massage it away. She decided to check herself in other places. She pulled the collar of her shirt down, seeing her chest. It seemed fine, and she was relieved to see she was still wearing her undergarment. Then she lifted the back of it, and saw no marks on her back. Finally she pulled the skirt down to reveal legs with no mars.

“I don’t understand,” Sarika muttered. Her glasses shouldn’t here, she shouldn’t be here, and there was no way she did not have any scars and physical markings from all the things she’d been through in her life. She had a scar on her left knee from when she landed on a sharp rock as a child, but it was gone now. And she knew, knew Damodar didn’t heal all of her. She should’ve had a burn mark on her hand, when she touched the flames on the stove when she was eight to test her Firebending. But that was gone, too. Sarika had been covered in bruises and burns and scars from training, and Tomiko and the others had purposefully tortured her in a way that would be etched into her not just mentally, but physically as well. She had been fed very little - typically only a small loaf of bread or a piece of fruit a day- and would’ve expected to look half dead, with bloodless skin, hollow eyes, and exposed ribs. Even so, her body now looked...perfectly healthy.

She looked down at the sink, and realized then how thirsty she was. Not seeing a cup, she plugged the sink and ran the faucet, letting cold water pool until it was halfway full. Curious, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she held her hand over the water and, fingers pointed down, moved her wrist up. There was no response, and she choked back a sob.

How pathetic, she wanted to cry, putting her head in her hands. I must be the most miserable Bender ever! How can I escape if I cannot Bend? How could I do this to myself? I’ve made myself a prisoner!

After taking a moment to compose herself, she cupped her hands in the water and brought it to her lips, swallowing down her tears. She was suddenly overcome with thirst, and drank almost all the water in the sink.

As the water entered Sarika’s mouth, soothing her parched throat, she considered that she might had been saved. Maybe she was in someone’s home, rescued from the Red Lotus by the people of the Academy. As appealing as it sounded, she remained doubtful. She had only been conscious for a few minutes! Spirits knew what had happened to her and where she was, if she was in danger or safe. But she wouldn’t find anything out by waiting, especially if she was still in enemy hands. Sarika shuddered, pure terror rocking her body.

She turned around, and saw a towel rod across from her. She threw the towel that was on it to the ground and took down the rod. It was a metal cylinder, and would hurt plenty if someone were to be hit with it. She hated the thought, but if she had to, she had to, even if it killed them.

Sarika slunk back into the bedroom, clutching the rod tightly with shaky hands. And then she noticed the chair. By the window was a simple wooden chair, and hung over it were red and brown clothes. No, wait. Upon closer inspection, she realized those were her clothes.

“By Raava,” she gasped. Yes, those robes were definitely hers, and they were also drenched in blood. “What has happened to me?”

Just then, the other door opened. Startled, Sarika turned to see a boy standing in the doorway. He was about her age, and had brown eyes and hair, an odd curl sticking out from it. He wore robes strikingly similar to hers, with long, oversized sleeves and a navy, sleeveless vest-like garmet over top. He looked just as surprised as she was, staring at her with a gaping mouth.

He had little time to react other than that. Acting on pure instinct Sarika ran towards him, then swung the rod at his legs. With a cry of shock and pain, his knees buckled and he tumbled to the floor. She leapt over him and bolted through the door, entering a hallway. Not knowing where to go, she made a right.

I have to escape! she thought, terror rushing through her veins. In that brief moment, she thanked the spirits she had gone to the Academy - a blessing she didn’t often recognize - for Master Aditya’s training with weapons and arms and legs. He taught her how to hone her intuition and instincts, to use them to defend herself with quick jabs, thrusts, stabs, and swings. Certainly anyone with arms could use a towel rod as a weapon, but she was thankful that she knew more than others, if she imagined it as a smaller staff. Although, Master Aditya was more of a swordsman. It was Master Surya, really, who taught her the ways of the staff, even though that was mostly for Airbending.

Yes! A stairwell! She flew down the stairs, which ended at another hall. A few lengths ahead of her was someone else, another young boy with brown hair and brown eyes. His eyes widened when he saw her, and with a screech of fear Sarika cracked the rod across the side of his torso. She stumbled from the contact, and her back fell against the wall. She watched him crumble to the ground, and for a brief moment felt sympathy for him. She looked down at him, trembling, hardly able to breathe, and then she glanced up. She felt the blood drain from her face.

She was looking into a room, once that was full of people. For a second they all stared at her, and she stared back. But then several lunged for her, crying, “Grab her!”

“No!” Sarika struck a man who reached for her hands, hitting him on the head. Then another grabbed the towel rod, shouting, “Let go! Let go of it!” But she hit his face, too, and he reared back, holding his mouth.

Now someone else grabbed her weapon, and another took one of her arms, prying her hand from the metal rod. It was ripped from her grasp, and Sarika felt bile rise in her throat. She kicked the man who took her weapon, right where it hurts most. He released his breath and fell to the floor, but clung to the cylinder.

Her arms were pinned to the walls now, and no matter how violently she writhed, they remained clamped to her like iron. There were tons of people now, screaming and shouting, but she hardly heard them over the rush of blood in her hears. Adrenaline pounding through her veins, Sarika desperately threw her legs upward, stopping anyone else from coming near her.

“Let me go!” she shrieked, tears running down her cheeks. “Let me go let me go let me go! No more! I don’t want this! Just let me go home! Please!”

“Please, calm down!” A voice rose above the cacophony now, and a man pushed through the crowd. Surprised, Sarika stopped kicking as she stared up at the oddest-looking man she had ever seen. His skin was pale, and yet his eyes were blue. A startling, sapphire blue at that, a blue she only saw in the dark skinned people of the Water Tribes. And his hair! It was…yellow? Why would he dye his hair such a strange color?

Noticing she heard him, the man stepped closer “West.” There was a warning tone in someone else’s voice behind him, but he ignored it.

“Stop struggling,” the man said, steadily coming closer. He tried to speak softly, noticing her terrified eyes, and realizing that she felt she was in danger. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

She pressed herself further against the wall, but made no attempt to flee. “It’s okay; you’re safe,” the man assured. He got down on one knee in order to make eye contact with her. Now a bit lower than her eyes he said, “I am Germany. What’s your name?”

Sarika was even more surprised. Why was he pretending to not know her? Surely she was still in the possession of the Red Lotus! …Right?

“I—I—“ she stammered, woozy from all the emotions she felt. Thoughts muddled, she did the only thing she could think to do. She head butted him.

Germany let out a shout, more caught off guard than in pain. He backpedaled away, holding his nose. Sarika slumped forward, dazed. She hadn’t expected his head to be so dense!

She had hit him hard. The corner of her vision darkened, and she wasn’t sure she had ever gotten such a horrible headache so fast before. I’m going to faint, she realized. She tried one last attempt to break free from the hold of the two men that had her arms, but her movements were sluggish at best. It was easy for them to maintain their hold.

“No….” she groaned, exhausted and petrified. “Please, just leave me be.” Those were the last words she uttered before she blacked out.

*~*

This time when Sarika woke up, the first thing she noticed were the voices. There were people with her, muttering amongst themselves, sounding urgent and agitated. Second came the pain, which exploded in her head. Caught off guard, she took a deep, shuddering breath, followed by a moan. The voices abruptly stopped, and mentally Sarika cursed, realizing too late she should have stayed quiet. If she had, she could’ve listened in and learned more about these people.

“Excuse me,” a soft, feminine voice said. Someone touched her hand. “Are you awake?”

Reluctantly, the Avatar opened her eyes. She saw a woman with long brown hair and warm green eyes looking down at her worriedly. Sarika would’ve trusted a person with such a nice face, if only Tomiko hadn’t ruined her peace of mind.

“Who are you?” Sarika croaked, looking for the door. She was in the same room she had been in previously, and knew she must have been at least on the second floor of the building because of the stairs from earlier. Unless she was certain she could Airbend—and she wasn’t—there was no way she’d be able to go out the window if she couldn’t create a cushion of air to protect her.

The woman had just opened her mouth to respond when Sarika clambered out of the bed. Clumsy with dizziness she fell, but quickly got back up and lunged for door, deciding it was better to leave first and ask questions later.

“No, wait—!” the person cried, but she was already turning the doorknob. She yanked the door open, only to run straight into someone else. She looked up, and could only gape. It was the strange looking man from before, with the yellow hair. Out of options—there was no way she’d be able to protect herself from that behemoth—she turned on her heel and dashed for the window. She had learned how to survive falls from great heights with minimal injury from Master Aditya. If she could just put her skills to good use for once—

Suddenly someone grabbed the back of her shirt collar and part of her hair. She screamed as she was yanked backward, and fell to the floor.

“Hey! Don’t touch her! You just scared her even more!” the woman yelled.

“What did you expect me to do? Let her jump out the window?” a man jeered in response. Sarika looked up to see a nobleman standing over her, jabbing his finger in her direction. Or at least, he had to have been a man of wealth given his formal attire. He glanced towards her and she gasped. His eyes! His eyes were, of all things, purple! Purple eyes, yellow hair—what kind of strange cosmetics were these? Why was the Red Lotus decorating their soldiers so strangely?

The woman glared at him, but when she turned back to Sarika, her eyes grew soft once more. She must have been of Earth Kingdom decent, and judging by her eyes she was probably an Earthbender. Sarika just hoped she wasn’t too good of one.

She lowered herself to one knee. Sarika crept backwards, letting a whimper of fear slip from her lips.

“No, no, it’s okay,” the woman said in a soft tone. Slowly, she extended her arm to her. “I’m sure you have many questions, and I’d be more than happy to answer them. You don’t have anything to worry about, dear. My friend and her brother found you passed out and covered in blood just outside her brother’s home—where you are now—and they’ve been tending to you since. Right now, they’re taking a bit of a break. But anyway, we’re not here to hurt you. We’re just here to take care of you. Okay?”

Sarika hesitated. What she said somewhat made sense. Sarika had no idea how she wound up here, and they seemed to know even less than her. And she did have more questions. At the very least, she wanted to know where she was.

“T—Then where am I? And who are you?” she whispered.

The woman’s smile widened. “You can call me Hungary. And you’re in China now, dear, in the Hebei province.”

“Hungry?” Sarika echoed. What kind of weird name was that? She didn’t believe that was her actual name, but couldn’t imagine why she’d hide it.

But wait…where was she?

“Where?” Sarika repeated.

“China, sweetie,” Hungary said again, lowering her hand when she realized the young girl wouldn’t take it. “To be more specific, you’re in the Hebei province. What’s your name?”

“I—China? Is that in the Earth Kingdom?”

“The what?” Now Hungary’s smile faded, and her eyebrows folded in puzzlement. “What’s the Earth Kingdom?” Then she shook her head. “Never mind. What’s your name?”

Sarika didn’t answer, and in that pause she felt her gut flip upside down. The world began spinning, and she was overcome with nausea. The room lilted to the left, and she had to put her hands on the floor to stop herself from falling over.

“Whoa, hey! What’s wrong?” Hungary asked, noticing the girl grow pale.

“What is the…the Earth Kingdom?” she whispered. Her stomach clenched, and she began to feel a burning pain flow through her veins. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. “The…the Earth Kingdom is the Earth Kingdom! It is my home! I know nothing of a place called China! Why do you pretend to know no nothing so blatantly? Where am I? Where am I?”

Sarika felt as though she was suddenly punched in the stomach, and she fell over in pain. She curled into a fetal position, and she realized that the shift of her vision was actually a shift of energy. Now that she thought about it, now that she questioned where she was and received a strange answer, she felt the power around her change. It was swirling violently into something, something else she did not know. It was not visible, nor was it tangible, but she felt, she knew there was something off. It was like the cusp between summer and autumn when, after days of heat and humidity, a single cool day followed, and on the wind there was an unmistakable feeling of fall. It wasn’t there, and yet it was.

Now she realized she was not only far away from home, but beyond home. She was somewhere else—she could feel the Light inside of her quake, adjust. Like a wind, the new energy of this place flowed through her. Her spirit jerked, her body twitched, and it almost felt like her soul was being stripped from her body.

You don’t belong here, Avatar, a female voice spoke. Sarika had never heard the voice before, but she knew with certainty that it was Raava, speaking from inside of her. This is not your realm. But you must bear it, my child! I have saved you, and now you must bear the burden of my soul fused with yours. You must experience all you can, learn all you can, to save our world! Only you, my Avatar, can accomplish this task. You must adapt, or all of us will perish. I believe in you, Sarika. I know you can succeed. But you cannot do it alone. And so that is why I, and the Avatars before you, why we….

Her voice began fading, being replaced by that woman, Hungary, shaking her. “Hey, hey! What’s wrong?” she demanded. “Please, tell me what’s wrong!” Thinking Sarika still couldn’t hear, she tried desperately “Please, I don’t want to hurt you! None of us want to hurt you! I want to help, so please, tell me what is—!”

“I am Sarika.”

“H—Huh?” Hungary stopped shaking her for a moment, and moved back to stare into her eyes.

Sarika stared back, realizing that the woman before her was not of Earth Kingdom decent. “I am Sarika,” she repeated, voice soft yet sturdy. There was no need to hide her identity now.

Emotions swirled through her like a whirlwind, too many to count, too many to decipher. Overwhelmed with the sudden comprehension of where she was, she fainted once more.

*~*

“Sarika, huh?” England muttered. Hungary nodded.

“She fainted again after telling me her name. Austria and I put her back in bed, but…before that, she said, well—“

“Hey, what’s the etymology of that name?” America cut in, leaning forward in his chair in the great room of China’s house. “Maybe that could help us figure out where she’s from?”

“I hardly doubt that matters,” England interjected. “It definitely doesn’t sound like a European name, and she looks Caucasian. Plenty of people these days give their kids names that originate from different cultures.” He turned back to Hungary. “Now, you were saying?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but just then China interrupted her. “Well, she definitely has a European skin tone, but her eyes and face look more Asian. She could be half Asian, half Caucasian. But either way, I believe the name Sarika is Hindi.”

Hungary tried to speak again. “But what I think is important is that—“

“Wait,” now Romano interrupted her, and she tried not to noticeably seethe with anger, “so she’s a Caucasian-Asian girl that speaks English with an American accent, found wearing Korean looking clothes, with a Hindi name, in China.” He shook his head. “This makes no goddamn sense.”

“I agree, but listen, please. She said—“

“And her eyes! Did you see her eyes when she came down here?” Finland said. “I’ve never seen a regular human with such green eyes. And didn’t they look more like yellow-green? How are her eyes such a strange shade of green, especially given her race? Wouldn’t her eyes most likely be a deep brown or hazel?”

“Yellow-green? They looked more like jade green to me,” Estonia put in, who was standing next to his Nordic friend.

Finland nodded, contemplating. “Hmm, now that you say it, they do! I mean, other nations like Hungary and Switzerland have some really green eyes, sure, and then there’s Iceland and Russia with purple eyes, but a normal person with jade green eyes? It’s so strange.”

“Sarika doesn’t know what China is!”

The talking in the room died down. Everyone dropped their discussions and stared at Austria in surprise.

“What do you mean she doesn’t know what China is?” China asked after a moment of silence, flabbergasted.

Austria closed his eyes and pushed his glasses up, and Hungary took his place in speaking. “She asked me where she was, and I told her she’s in China. She asked if China is in the ‘Earth Kingdom’.”

“Earth Kingdom?” England echoed. “What the hell does that mean?”

Hungary shook her head. “I don’t know. I asked her what the Earth Kingdom was and she went berserk. She said it’s where she comes from, and insisted she’s never heard of China, and that I was lying to her by saying I don’t know what the Earth Kingdom was. All of a sudden she got really pale, fell over, started twitching, told me her name, and then she fainted again.”

Germany sighed heavily, feeling a headache beginning to form. “Yes, that’s exactly how it happened. I’ve never heard of an Earth Kingdom before, either, and she seems to be shrouded in mystery.” He glared at his brother. “I wish we didn’t have to wait for more answers, but someone just decided to leave the room right before she woke up the first time. My nose still hurts from her head butt.”

“Hey, I was bored!” Prussia defended. “And I was only gone for a minute to get a drink!”

“Yeah, well, at the very least you could’ve gone back instead of pausing to chat,” Korea puffed, a bag of ice on his right leg.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry she whacked your legs and all, but better you than me, right?”

Hungary smacked him upside the head.


End file.
